Sunday 16th June 2013 @ 1:45 AM

People sometimes forget that I am one of the world’s five greatest living poets (and one of the seven greatest dead ones). So here I present to you a Poetry Parade of haiku written about Namor the Sub-Mariner that date from the Contains2 days. All but the first ten of these were on secret pages, so I can even pretend like I’m presenting them for the first time. Here you go:

Top Ten Haikus About NamorSunday 03 August 2003:

10)
Wing-fins on his feet
Good swimming abilities
And a green speedo.

9)
Namor cries a lot
How come? He has a sad life.
He likes comfort foods.

8)
King of Atlantis
But never King of the World
Also, not a bride

7)
Eating out one night
Namor ordered some sushi.
Thus he ate his arm.

Thursday 13th December 2012 @ 12:46 AM

THE FROG OF FORTOSIA!

Kirk: Captain’s Log Stardate: Martin Luther King Jr. Day. We were continuing our five year mission to seek out new life and discover new civilizations today and we came across a planet. It could easily have life or civilization on it, so we’re going to check it out.

Kirk: Spock’s readings state that the planet is composed almost entirely of cardboard and styrofoam, meaning it is the same as every other planet we have discovered to date. I have decided to beam down an away team made up only of main characters, to avoid the death of random crew members.

And so, on the planet’s surface…

Kirk: Well, here we are, men. Let’s seek out that stuff we seek out.

Spock: It would seem we have all neglected to bring our tricorders. We will have to search the planet manually.

Bones: Sure, split up. I’m stuck looking at this boring cavern while that dirty Vulcan gets to look at interesting stuff. I hate Vulcans. I wish I could just enslave them all. Yeah, that’d be nice. I could have a Vulcan mopping my floors and making my supper. That’d be…

Meanwhile, Captain Kirk finds something…

Kirk: Now what’s this? It looks like a frog. (into communicator) Hey guys, I found something.

Frogodes: I’m no mere frog! I am Frogodes! I am the omnipotent ruler of this world!

Frogodes: Now that you’re here, I think I’ll torture you with my vast powers for my own entertainment. Yeah. Maybe I’ll make you and one of your friends fight to the death. Or I could make one of you stand on another one’s face.

Chekov: Captain! What did you–?

Chekov: Ahhh! What’s that? I’ll shoot it!

Frogodes: I think you’ll find that your weapons are useless against me, fool.

Chekov: You’re right… But it still makes me feel like a real man to have it.

Kirk: Frogodes, you mustn’t do this. We are… explorers. We seek only to make peace with you.

Frogodes: Too bad! I’m omnipotent!

Frogodes: Watch as I pick a random low-ranking crewman from your ship and bring him here, dead!

Kirk: What?

Bones: It’s true, Jim. Dead.

Kirk: Dammit!

Bones: Consarn these omnipotent aliens! Just once I wish one of them would join the Federation! That’d make things easier for us. But no! They all have worse attitudes than a Gargiruian Catfish!

Meanwhile, back on the Starship Enterprise NCC-1701 of the United Federation of Planets and Starfleet.

Uhura: I just received a report from Deck Seven. One of the low-ranking crewmen just vanished.

Uhura: It’s almost like he was teleported away.

Sulu: Hey, wanna see me take off my shirt and do some sword-fighting?

Uhura: Not now.

Scotty: We’ll have time for that later, Sulu. Uhra call the Captain and tell him what happened.

Uhura: My name is “Uhura”, Mr. Scott.

Scotty: What? For real? What kind of name is that?

Uhura: What kind of name is Uhra?

Scotty: Geez, all these years I’ve known you and I didn’t even know your name. I feel like a bastard. I’ll be getting drunk because of that, I tell ya. Now, just call the captain.

Uhura: There’s some strange interference now, but I’ll work on it.

Scott: Well, work quick. We need the away team back here so Chekov can take out the garbage.

Back on the planet…

Frogodes: And so you see, you are helpless before me! I am your ruler!

Kirk: No… Not our ruler. Because of Free Will we will never be helpless against… tyrants like you. It is our job… our mission… to oppose the likes of you.

Frogodes: You said your mission was to seek out life and civilization.

Kirk: While opposing you on the side, yes.

Scotty (over communicator): Captain, we’ve got a situation up here.

Scotty: The garbage is piling up and I’m embarrassing myself in front of the bridge crew. Also, some guy disappeared. You should hurry up so I can get back down to engineering.

Friday 27th July 2012 @ 2:19 PM

I just didn’t realize that I meant October 2002. But I just got a job. So now the scales have turned and over half of Contains2 is employed. We’re somewhat less cool.

I’m going to be a flyer inserter. I don’t know what that entails exactly, but I’m going in with the attitude that it will suck hardcore, that way if it does, I’m right and if it’s actually pretty mediocre, it’s better than I thought. I’ll be working Tuesday to Fridays, so I’ve got three off, that’s good. I start at eight in the morning and go until we finish that day’s work apparently. I make six bucks an hour, which is leaps above what I’m making without a job.

And I start tomorrow, so I have to try to sleep tonight. This is gonna be very hard, because I have to get up about two hours (or less) after the time I’ve been getting to sleep for the last few months. O, woe is me.

But I’ll have money!

Oh, that’s what I wrote. I guess I should check out October 4 2002 as well.

The Lowdown on my Jay-Oh-Bee

Well, it doesn’t suck hardcore. It’s just mediocre. Whew. I basically just show up in the morning (way too early by my standards) and then they tell me what job I’m to do. I can be doing any number of things that result in grocery store flyers being taken from their boxes to the sorting machines, or from the sorting machines to a different box. It’s very, very easy and of course very boring. But they give me money, so I guess it’ll do for now.

Most importantly, I was given free earplugs. Score!

I’m amazed that I only had three hours of sleep yesterday, and I wasn’t only not tired at work, but I’m still not. Go being awake!

And now I’m watching the TV shows I taped while trying to fall asleep then. Oh, Stephen Colbert, you crack me up.

Oh, I see now. Say, I wonder why I’m looking up stuff about the start of my current employment situation.

Wednesday 4th April 2012 @ 6:13 PM

Something I’ve seen many times over the years over the years on television and the Internet is people saying that talking about one’s dreams makes one a bore. Basically what it all boils down to is the message that “Yeah, dreams are weird, we get it.” Well I hate to go against television and the Internet, but I am here to say that I totally like hearing about dreams. I often like hearing about dreams more than I like hearing about actual things that have happened to people.

Maybe somehow the complainers have just been so overwhelmed by descriptions of dreams that it has grown tiresome, but as someone who doesn’t do a whole lot of talking to people (and talking about dreams makes up such a small, small portion of that talking) this is not a problem for me. I love the surreality of dreams so much that my own occasionally remembered dreams are not enough to fill my interest. Hearing about good strangeness from the subconsciousnesses of others is the only way I can think to fill the void.

I’m not, however, one of those people who likes analyzing what the “symbols” in dreams mean. My dreams are typically so bizarre that I have doubt that any such meaning is in there. Plus, the oddness is what I like most about the dreams, so why ruin it?

With this in mind I’m going to repost something from the Contains2 era. Though the dream in question happened years earlier, I had discussed it often enough that the details were still fresh in my mind on Saturday 22 of June 2002 when I posted this:

The OJ Simpson Bus-Boat Dream

Okay, I had this dream once, years ago (I think it was in grade ten, so whichever year that was). I’ve had myself a lot of strange dreams (and it seems like 75% of them are set in malls, is there some sort of symbolism behind that?) but this dream is up there in it’s not being surreal, not just being wacky. I’ve told it to many people, and now I’m going to write it up here to prevent me from forgetting even more of it than I already have.

I don’t think it actually started at this point, but this is where my memories kick in:

I’m in my own house, and I’m a butler. I’m going through my various duties and I happen to look out my window. Just as it does in the real world the window has a view of the Atlantic Ocean. Out there, driving on the ocean at the horizon is a bus, which I immediately recognize as the OJ Simpson Bus-Boat. Not finding this at all strange, I go back to work.

But when I look out the window again, I see that the Bus-Boat has changed course. It’s heading directly for my house! I dive away from the window, and I hear the Bus-Boat crashing onto the area in front of my house.

Things get blurry right here again, but I think I talked to my parents for a few minutes about the Bus-Boat having crashed in front of our house. When my memory comes clear again…

A panoramic, birds-eye-view of the Bus-Boat (now that it is on land it’s a boat. A military ship actually, maybe even a carrier) as it is cordoned off by military personnel and helicopters circle it (military or media? I couldn’t tell you). It’s about the size that such a boat would really be, and takes up the length of my street (Himmelman Drive, Boy!). In the real world, the road is curved, but the boat manages just fine.

Things get blurry again and then me and a guy who I knew from school at the time are disguising ourselves as water deliverymen to sneak into the Bus-Boat. I don’t know what happened inside, but when we came out I had found a secret device: An Electric Arm!

I don’t think my memory is blurry here, I think the dream just skipped scenes and suddenly I was wearing the Electric Arm and leading a team of commandos or mercenaries or something. We’re fighting this ogre and he’s got us cornered on a winding staircase that has a big brass pole at its center. The ogre repeatedly charges at us and I hold him off by hitting him with the Electric Arm. Each time I strike the ogre numbers fly out of him and he moves back. Eventually we’re at the top of the stairs and the ogre is at the bottom resting against the brass pole. Brilliantly, I use my Electric Arm on the pole, sending a shock down and forcing the ogre to run away.

I think the dream went on, but that is all I can still remember. For a dream I had like six years ago, I think that’s pretty good. (Wow! I don’t even think I did the math wrong, I think it really has been six years since grade ten.)
If there is any meaning behind that dream, I certainly don’t get it.